


Silver Nexus

by indigo (indigo_angels)



Category: The A-Team (2010), The A-Team - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 16:14:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16478798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indigo_angels/pseuds/indigo
Summary: What if all was not what it seemed with Face, what would Hannibal do???





	1. Version A - The First Written

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually four stories when I couldn't decide which one I was actually going to write. They share the same first chapter, but the following two are varying degrees of different.

**Version A - The First Written**

 

** Chapter 1 **

 

Hannibal Smith just stared, his expression blank, incomprehension leaking from his every pore.

 

Wilson, meanwhile, waited, allowed that moment for his words to sink in a little and then braced himself for the inevitable explosion.

 

It was a long time coming, and when it arrived, far more measured than he’d expected. He saw it arriving though, the way that Hannibal drew himself up a little, those unsettlingly blue eyes pinning him in his seat, his huge hands moving to rest in his lap – closer grabbing distance perhaps? He learned in a little and his voice was low, controlled.

“Are you sure you have the right man?”

 

It was far less than Wilson had expected, far tamer, and he allowed himself a simple nod. “Of course. And I’m sorry, I appreciate how much of a shock this is for you.”

 

Smith drew back a little, his countenance as empty as before, “Explain it to me.”

 

For the briefest of moments, Wilson was silent. Explain it to him? The shock? No, no, of course not. The bombshell, that’s what he wanted explaining and of course, Wilson could do this, it was his job after all. He adjusted his suit jacket slightly, unconsciously tried to add a little height into his posture and started. “The ‘droid programme started in the early eighties-”

 

“1984,” Smith interjected, smoothly. “Project Nexus, a nod to Blade Runner. An inevitable foray into AI after learning that the Russians were amassing their own army of androids. I know all that. I want you to explain to me how _this_ happened.”

 

Wilson swallowed, tried to throw off the way that this man made him feel that he was back in Elementary, in the Principal’s office, and started again. “At first, Nexus was simply about studying what was out there already, but the decision came from the very highest level that we needed to fight fire with fire-”

 

“President Reagan did enjoy his science fiction.”

 

“He did, he did, that’s right,” Wilson stared at the man opposite him, was this evidence of a thaw? He couldn’t be at all sure. “So, we started our own research, involved the very best brains, started developing our own strain of ‘droid.”

 

“I know all of that, too. I’ve seen the Nexus 10s, served alongside many of them, but they were never like this, they were never… human.”

 

“No,” Wilson leaned in a little. “In a way, the 10s were cover for the real goal, the Silver Nexus,” he’d paused for affect but Smith remained inscrutable. His big reveal ruined slightly, he pushed on. “Silver Nexus were a whole other ball game, the next level up and a step away from what the Russians were doing. A new interface, new construction materials and techniques, huge leaps in AI, they were barely recognisable as related to the 10s.” Smith nodded, and pleased that he was, at last, being listened to, Wilson pushed on. “We produced twenty, all in all, decided to get them into the field in a blind test, see how long it was before anyone noticed what they actually were.” Was that a flicker of annoyance he saw in those steel-eyes? He needed to tread more carefully. “They were carefully inserted, highly competent leaders selected to work alongside them, monitored most judiciously over the years. If they started showing signs of fatigue or failure to cope, they were adjusted – or withdrawn.” He’d hoped that that might have been enough, that Smith might have decided to withdraw his questioning in the discovery of the monitoring, but no such embarrassment was evident. The Colonel simply stared at him, his expression still blank, his eyes appraising; Wilson pushed on.

 

“SN14, your model, was by far the most successful of the pilot scheme. It assimilated itself into the unit in the same way a human might. There were problems, of course, programming glitches in terms of behaviour choices, moderation was always a problem, the Silver Nexus with their superior AI were prone to extremes, taking an order and following it literally, almost past the point of reason, there were long-running difficulties with managing risk-taking behaviour, loyalty was a trait that had been designed with care, and was prized in those models which displayed it, but it was never supposed to over-ride the safety settings.”

 

Smith narrowed his eyes at this, ever so slightly.

 

“But there were also huge successes, especially with SN14, and we’ve always credited a huge part of that to your leadership, Colonel. Our Silver Nexus models were designed to learn, to adapt to meet the needs of their superiors. SN14 did this far better than any of the other models,” Wilson felt his heart beating anxiously against his ribs, “it worked out exactly what you wanted it to be – and it provided that… service.”

 

Smith’s expression remained granite and Wilson waited. Would there be refutes? Anger? Embarrassment? From what he knew about this man, he wasn’t easily ruffled but even so, it must be clear what Wilson was referring to, DADT hadn’t been repealed for that long, even the legendary Hannibal Smith must have his limits.

 

But not, apparently, here. The steady stare lasted a few minutes more and then a response, short and terse and not really what Wilson had been expecting. “You thought that was prudent then, did you? Placing an android in my team, with my men, and never even hinting that it was there?”

 

He blinked, wiped his damp palms on his suit trousers and tried to hold Smith’s eyes. From what he’d been told, there had been a real, emotional connection here, one that had needed severing most carefully, he hadn’t expected acceptance so quickly. He forced out a shrug which he hoped looked relaxed. “It was necessary. If you knew that it was a ‘droid, then you would have treated it differently. Thinking it was human, allowed us to test it more thoroughly.”

 

“And you invented that whole background for it?”

 

“Absolutely. We thought that the orphan story would be enough but as the experiment continued and your… _relationship_ with it deepened, we simply paid actors to play the parts of priests and nuns, classmates, anything that would facilitate the lie.”

 

“But you never felt that it was dangerous? That it would compromise my unit?”

 

“It was risk assessed. Think of your team as test pilots, running through some new kit.”

 

“Test pilots generally agree to what they have been asked to do, and they get danger money. We received no such common courtesy with this project, we were simply sent out there with a damn robot to cover us and expected to do our thing. What the hell were we supposed to do if the thing malfunctioned on us when we were out there?”

 

This, Wilson could handle, this he was trained for. “It was a different time, Colonel Smith, different standards and expectations. This is partly why the Nexus project has been pulled, and you will be contacted by one of our legal representatives within the week in order to discuss some recompense for your inconvenience.”

 

Smith nodded at that, seemingly satisfied, but then shook his head again as the anger finally began to surface. “Recompense is required, yes, but it will never put right what you and your team have done here. You have manipulated me for years, shoe-horned a changeling into my unit and my life, directed events and emotions, led me to _care_ for a man who simply didn’t exist, left the safety of my entire unit to a machine, stage-managed missions and outcomes, simply to test your tech; we knew that the Russians were doing this, how do you think it makes me feel that my own damn side were doing the same thing?”

 

“We had no choice,” Wilson kept his voice low, respectful, “It was because the Russians were doing it that we had to have our own programme.”

 

Smith stared at him, “But now?”

 

Wilson sat back in his seat, spread his arms wide in a gesture of defeat. “But now, the money simply isn’t there. Obama has different priorities, the threats we face are coming from the same people, and more, but in different directions. SN14 was the last operational unit and funding is gone. It simply wasn’t safe, or viable, to leave it out there.”

 

“It’s been decommissioned?”

 

“Yes. We thought it prudent to remove it from your unit with immediate effect. We can no longer guarantee its safe operation.”

 

Smith sat back a little at that, it seemed that maybe he wasn’t quite as immune to the emotional fall-out as he’d wanted to be. “What’s the confidential level on this?”

 

“Need to know, only.”

 

“And so, what do I tell my team?”

 

“Death, I suggest is the easiest one. We’ll provide a death certificate for you, a funeral, anything else you think might be useful in closing this down.”

 

“That’s a lot of money and expense you’re going to there.”

 

Wilson smiled, “We need this shutting down for good, we can’t afford to leave loose ends which could be picked at in the future.”

 

“And yet you told me?”

 

The smiled thinned a little, but Wilson persisted, “We know you, Colonel Smith. You wouldn’t have simply swallowed any old story that you were fed. In addition, you and SN14 had a… particular link. My predecessors should never have allowed that to develop in the way that it did, but since it was there, we felt that you deserved answers, some closure perhaps.”

 

“It’s the least I deserve,” Smith growled, “You ever been duped into fucking a damn _robot_?”

 

Wilson felt his cheeks flush, but he forced himself to hold Smith’s eyes. “No. And I’m sorry, I told you there will be recompense for this.”

 

Smith rose and snatched up his beret as he turned to leave, “You’re damn right there will be.”

 

Wilson watched him leave, watched the door shake in its frame with the force in which it was slammed and then let out a long breath of relief, wiping a hand over his clammy face as he did so. Then, as Smith’s car roared out of the lot below him, he picked up his phone and pressed a pre-programmed number. “Yeah, he’s just left now. Gone to lick his wounds and nurse his pride I reckon.” He nodded again and smiled, “Maybe a few thou might ease the sting, but yeah, I don’t reckon he’ll be any bother to us now.”

 

** Chapter 2a**

****

Jarvis and Zane sat back in their chairs, Zane letting out a long breath of frustration as his eyes shot his colleague’s way. “What the fuck did I tell you about that? I told you it was too much, now we have to sit here and wait for him to wake up again before we can get on,” he shook his head disgustedly. “You did it deliberately just because you know I’m taking Clara out for dinner tonight.”

 

It was Jarvis’ turn to blow out his own huff if incredulity as he returned the cold stare. “Grow up, will you? We’re supposed to push the boundaries here, you know. It’s how we make new discoveries.”

 

Zane’s head shook once more as long fingers brushed through a neatly clipped beard. “You think we’re up for a Nobel prize after this? Let me tell you, we’re _not_ getting a Nobel prize for this.”

 

Resigned to waiting, the two men slid into silence and watched their slumped, unconscious subject through the one-way glass, Zane tapping his pen on his clipboard as he kept one eye on the clock.

 

“How long’s he been out this time?” Jarvis’ voice eventually broke the silence.

 

“Thirteen minutes. He should be waking up pretty soon.”

 

“He’ll try and play possum again.”

 

“He will. That’s what the heart-rate monitors are for though. And the water cannons.” Both men laughed.

 

“You hear that Smith swallowed the whole story?” Jarvis was adjusting dials as he spoke, preparing for the continuation of their experiment.

 

“Of course he did, it was perfectly plausible after all, that’s why they decided to run with it.”

 

“Yeah, but…” both men stopped as the figure in front of them twitched slightly, but the heart-rate monitors stayed steady. “From what I’d heard of Smith, I’d figured he’d be more dogged than that, want to see something for himself, some proof, you know?”

 

“I guess so,” Zane was firing off a quick text, no doubt to Clara, “Wilson said it was his ego in the end. Couldn’t stand the thought that he’d been fucking an android…”

 

Jarvis shivered, “As if you wouldn’t damn well notice if it were true.”

 

Further speculation was halted by the heart-monitor in front of them speeding up ever so slightly and both men swung into action. “We were on eighty milliamps when he blanked out, let’s start at seventy this time.”

 

Nodding, Zane started pressing buttons, filling the room with a high-pitched whine. “But we take it slowly. The brief is to see how much he can take before it induces a cardiac episode, if you keep making him pass out, we’ll never get anywhere.”

 

“Okay,” in the darkened room through the glass, the lone figure was unsuccessfully trying to lift his head. “Is the defib charged?” a single nod answered his question, “Let’s get started then.”

 

He pressed a button and the room beyond was abruptly filled with dreadful, keening screams; the two men watched on, impassive.

 

** Chapter 3a**

 

Cautiously, Face began to wonder if they were done for the day. Or the night. Or the week. Or whatever the hell time it was.

 

He had no idea how long he’d been in the company of these monsters for, no idea how much time had passed since they’d snatched from off the range when he was out of an early morning run; he’d always known exercise was bad for the health. Every moment since then, he had been expecting Hannibal to come for him though, to smash down the door with Murdock and BA right behind him and get him the hell out of this hole. But Hannibal had never come, his team had never come. He realised that meant they just didn’t know where he’d got to. Either that or they were dead. He felt selfish that both possibilities were equally repugnant to him.

 

This current situation, however, was living torture – literally. They weren’t asking him anything, they didn’t want anything from him, they weren’t punishing him for anything, they were just testing him. They’d told him that, that he’d been selected for his high fitness levels, his stamina, and now they just wanted to see what the human body was capable of, how far they could push him before he died. It wasn’t anything personal, it was a simple experiment on behalf of the US Army, his US Army. He should be grateful he’d been selected.

 

At first, his inherent stubbornness saw him spitting a, “Fuck you,” their way, but now, so many agonising sessions later, he was cursing his stamina and just wishing that he would curl up and die.

 

They’d started with the sensory stuff, sounds, lights, temperature fluctuations and so on, and it had been relentless, so much so that he’d felt he’d been losing his mind. After that had come starving and forced feeding, vomiting and induced diarrhoea. They’d pumped water straight into his belly, kept it going until he was screaming in agony, fearing he would simply burst at any moment. And then they’d moved onto electrocution, shocking him over and over and over again, making him empty his bladder and his bowels, leaving him helplessly convulsing on the filthy floor whilst they watched and made notes. And he knew that it was never going to stop, each day more horrific than the last, the ‘invisible’ tortures inevitably making way for the beatings and maiming, a blank-faced doctor attending to him after every session, signing away his fitness to continue. It was never going to stop until he died. 

 

He’d vomited this time, he hadn’t even been aware of that as the electricity had ripped through him, but now he could smell it, feel its slimy substance under his cheek but didn’t have the strength to lift his head. He wondered if he could actually turn into it, move his mouth and nose until they were full of the stuff, suffocate on the contents of his own stomach – it was appallingly appealing.

 

Before he could persuade his mis-firing neurons to marshal his muscles into movement, however, the door to his torture chamber opened and he could have cried at the missed opportunity. Boots headed his way and hands grabbed at him, dragging him upright, out of his own mess, rough voices hissing their disgust at the state he was in. He couldn’t care though, couldn’t even start to think of a quick comeback for them, couldn’t do anything but try to keep the moans of pain inside as he was roughly deposited into a wooden chair, his helpless limbs secured to the arms and legs, the electrodes moved, strapped this time to an ankle and his neck; he hoped that meant they were planning on killing him this time.

 

Then he was left alone, three maybe four minutes of respite as the only sound in the room was his own stressed and laboured breathing. But then, back came the pain, waves and waves of it, ripping through his body, tearing him apart, leaving him helpless to do anything but howl in agony. On and on it went, but never enough to kill him, never even enough to make him black out. In a moment of calm between the storms, he hung his head and felt the tears slide down his nose to drip onto his quivering thighs. This was it, this was his life now, then the pain came again.


	2. �Version B - The One I Had to Write After A

**Version B - The One I Had to Write After A**

 

** Chapter 1 **

 

Hannibal Smith just stared, his expression blank, incomprehension leaking from his every pore.

 

Wilson, meanwhile, waited, allowed that moment for his words to sink in a little and then braced himself for the inevitable explosion.

 

It was a long time coming, and when it arrived, far more measured than he’d expected. He saw it arriving though, the way that Hannibal drew himself up a little, those unsettlingly blue eyes pinning him in his seat, his huge hands moving to rest in his lap – closer grabbing distance perhaps? He learned in a little and his voice was low, controlled.

“Are you sure you have the right man?”

 

It was far less than Wilson had expected, far tamer, and he allowed himself a simple nod. “Of course. And I’m sorry, I appreciate how much of a shock this is for you.”

 

Smith drew back a little, his countenance as empty as before, “Explain it to me.”

 

For the briefest of moments, Wilson was silent. Explain it to him? The shock? No, no, of course not. The bombshell, that’s what he wanted explaining and of course, Wilson could do this, it was his job after all. He adjusted his suit jacket slightly, unconsciously tried to add a little height into his posture and started. “The ‘droid programme started in the early eighties-”

 

“1984,” Smith interjected, smoothly. “Project Nexus, a nod to Blade Runner. An inevitable foray into AI after learning that the Russians were amassing their own army of androids. I know all that. I want you to explain to me how _this_ happened.”

 

Wilson swallowed, tried to throw off the way that this man made him feel that he was back in Elementary, in the Principal’s office, and started again. “At first, Nexus was simply about studying what was out there already, but the decision came from the very highest level that we needed to fight fire with fire-”

 

“President Reagan did enjoy his science fiction.”

 

“He did, he did, that’s right,” Wilson stared at the man opposite him, was this evidence of a thaw? He couldn’t be at all sure. “So, we started our own research, involved the very best brains, started developing our own strain of ‘droid.”

 

“I know all of that, too. I’ve seen the Nexus 10s, served alongside many of them, but they were never like this, they were never… human.”

 

“No,” Wilson leaned in a little. “In a way, the 10s were cover for the real goal, the Silver Nexus,” he’d paused for affect but Smith remained inscrutable. His big reveal ruined slightly, he pushed on. “Silver Nexus were a whole other ball game, the next level up and a step away from what the Russians were doing. A new interface, new construction materials and techniques, huge leaps in AI, they were barely recognisable as related to the 10s.” Smith nodded, and pleased that he was, at last, being listened to, Wilson pushed on. “We produced twenty, all in all, decided to get them into the field in a blind test, see how long it was before anyone noticed what they actually were.” Was that a flicker of annoyance he saw in those steel-eyes? He needed to tread more carefully. “They were carefully inserted, highly competent leaders selected to work alongside them, monitored most judiciously over the years. If they started showing signs of fatigue or failure to cope, they were adjusted – or withdrawn.” He’d hoped that that might have been enough, that Smith might have decided to withdraw his questioning in the discovery of the monitoring, but no such embarrassment was evident. The Colonel simply stared at him, his expression still blank, his eyes appraising; Wilson pushed on.

 

“SN14, your model, was by far the most successful of the pilot scheme. It assimilated itself into the unit in the same way a human might. There were problems, of course, programming glitches in terms of behaviour choices, moderation was always a problem, the Silver Nexus with their superior AI were prone to extremes, taking an order and following it literally, almost past the point of reason, there were long-running difficulties with managing risk-taking behaviour, loyalty was a trait that had been designed with care, and was prized in those models which displayed it, but it was never supposed to over-ride the safety settings.”

 

Smith narrowed his eyes at this, ever so slightly.

 

“But there were also huge successes, especially with SN14, and we’ve always credited a huge part of that to your leadership, Colonel. Our Silver Nexus models were designed to learn, to adapt to meet the needs of their superiors. SN14 did this far better than any of the other models,” Wilson felt his heart beating anxiously against his ribs, “it worked out exactly what you wanted it to be – and it provided that… service.”

 

Smith’s expression remained granite and Wilson waited. Would there be refutes? Anger? Embarrassment? From what he knew about this man, he wasn’t easily ruffled but even so, it must be clear what Wilson was referring to, DADT hadn’t been repealed for that long, even the legendary Hannibal Smith must have his limits.

 

But not, apparently, here. The steady stare lasted a few minutes more and then a response, short and terse and not really what Wilson had been expecting. “You thought that was prudent then, did you? Placing an android in my team, with my men, and never even hinting that it was there?”

 

He blinked, wiped his damp palms on his suit trousers and tried to hold Smith’s eyes. From what he’d been told, there had been a real, emotional connection here, one that had needed severing most carefully, he hadn’t expected acceptance so quickly. He forced out a shrug which he hoped looked relaxed. “It was necessary. If you knew that it was a ‘droid, then you would have treated it differently. Thinking it was human, allowed us to test it more thoroughly.”

 

“And you invented that whole background for it?”

 

“Absolutely. We thought that the orphan story would be enough but as the experiment continued and your… _relationship_ with it deepened, we simply paid actors to play the parts of priests and nuns, classmates, anything that would facilitate the lie.”

 

“But you never felt that it was dangerous? That it would compromise my unit?”

 

“It was risk assessed. Think of your team as test pilots, running through some new kit.”

 

“Test pilots generally agree to what they have been asked to do, and they get danger money. We received no such common courtesy with this project, we were simply sent out there with a damn robot to cover us and expected to do our thing. What the hell were we supposed to do if the thing malfunctioned on us when we were out there?”

 

This, Wilson could handle, this he was trained for. “It was a different time, Colonel Smith, different standards and expectations. This is partly why the Nexus project has been pulled, and you will be contacted by one of our legal representatives within the week in order to discuss some recompense for your inconvenience.”

 

Smith nodded at that, seemingly satisfied, but then shook his head again as the anger finally began to surface. “Recompense is required, yes, but it will never put right what you and your team have done here. You have manipulated me for years, shoe-horned a changeling into my unit and my life, directed events and emotions, led me to _care_ for a man who simply didn’t exist, left the safety of my entire unit to a machine, stage-managed missions and outcomes, simply to test your tech; we knew that the Russians were doing this, how do you think it makes me feel that my own damn side were doing the same thing?”

 

“We had no choice,” Wilson kept his voice low, respectful, “It was because the Russians were doing it that we had to have our own programme.”

 

Smith stared at him, “But now?”

 

Wilson sat back in his seat, spread his arms wide in a gesture of defeat. “But now, the money simply isn’t there. Obama has different priorities, the threats we face are coming from the same people, and more, but in different directions. SN14 was the last operational unit and funding is gone. It simply wasn’t safe, or viable, to leave it out there.”

 

“It’s been decommissioned?”

 

“Yes. We thought it prudent to remove it from your unit with immediate effect. We can no longer guarantee its safe operation.”

 

Smith sat back a little at that, it seemed that maybe he wasn’t quite as immune to the emotional fall-out as he’d wanted to be. “What’s the confidential level on this?”

 

“Need to know, only.”

 

“And so, what do I tell my team?”

 

“Death, I suggest is the easiest one. We’ll provide a death certificate for you, a funeral, anything else you think might be useful in closing this down.”

 

“That’s a lot of money and expense you’re going to there.”

 

Wilson smiled, “We need this shutting down for good, we can’t afford to leave loose ends which could be picked at in the future.”

 

“And yet you told me?”

 

The smiled thinned a little, but Wilson persisted, “We know you, Colonel Smith. You wouldn’t have simply swallowed any old story that you were fed. In addition, you and SN14 had a… particular link. My predecessors should never have allowed that to develop in the way that it did, but since it was there, we felt that you deserved answers, some closure perhaps.”

 

“It’s the least I deserve,” Smith growled, “You ever been duped into fucking a damn _robot_?”

 

Wilson felt his cheeks flush, but he forced himself to hold Smith’s eyes. “No. And I’m sorry, I told you there will be recompense for this.”

 

Smith rose and snatched up his beret as he turned to leave, “You’re damn right there will be.”

 

Wilson watched him leave, watched the door shake in its frame with the force in which it was slammed and then let out a long breath of relief, wiping a hand over his clammy face as he did so. Then, as Smith’s car roared out of the lot below him, he picked up his phone and pressed a pre-programmed number. “Yeah, he’s just left now. Gone to lick his wounds and nurse his pride I reckon.” He nodded again and smiled, “Maybe a few thou might ease the sting, but yeah, I don’t reckon he’ll be any bother to us now.”

 

** Chapter 2b **

****

Jarvis and Zane sat back in their chairs, Zane letting out a long breath of frustration as his eyes shot his colleague’s way. “What the fuck did I tell you about that? I told you it was too much, now we have to sit here and wait for him to wake up again before we can get on,” he shook his head disgustedly. “You did it deliberately just because you know I’m taking Clara out for dinner tonight.”

 

It was Jarvis’ turn to blow out his own huff if incredulity as he returned the cold stare. “Grow up, will you? We’re supposed to push the boundaries here, you know. It’s how we make new discoveries.”

 

Zane’s head shook once more as long fingers brushed through a neatly clipped beard. “You think we’re up for a Nobel prize after this? Let me tell you, we’re _not_ getting a Nobel prize for this.”

 

Resigned to waiting, the two men slid into silence and watched their slumped, unconscious subject through the one-way glass, Zane tapping his pen on his clipboard as he kept one eye on the clock.

 

“How long’s he been out this time?” Jarvis’ voice eventually broke the silence.

 

“Thirteen minutes. He should be waking up pretty soon.”

 

“He’ll try and play possum again.”

 

“He will. That’s what the heart-rate monitors are for though. And the water cannons.” Both men laughed.

 

“You hear that Smith swallowed the whole story?” Jarvis was adjusting dials as he spoke, preparing for the continuation of their experiment.

 

“Of course he did, it was perfectly plausible after all, that’s why they decided to run with it.”

 

“Yeah, but…” both men stopped as the figure in front of them twitched slightly, but the heart-rate monitors stayed steady. “From what I’d heard of Smith, I’d figured he’d be more dogged than that, want to see something for himself, some proof, you know?”

 

“I guess so,” Zane was firing off a quick text, no doubt to Clara, “Wilson said it was his ego in the end. Couldn’t stand the thought that he’d been fucking an android…”

 

Jarvis shivered, “As if you wouldn’t damn well notice if it were true.”

 

Further speculation was halted by the heart-monitor in front of them speeding up ever so slightly and both men swung into action. “We were on eighty milliamps when he blanked out, let’s start at seventy this time.”

 

Nodding, Zane started pressing buttons, filling the room with a high-pitched whine. “But we take it slowly. The brief is to see how much he can take before it induces a cardiac episode, if you keep making him pass out, we’ll never get anywhere.”

 

“Okay,” in the darkened room through the glass, the lone figure was unsuccessfully trying to lift his head, “is the defib charged?” a single nod answered his question, “Let’s get started then.”

 

He pressed a button and the room beyond was abruptly filled with dreadful, keening screams; the two men watched on, impassive.

 

** Chapter 3b **

 

Cautiously, Face began to wonder if they were done for the day. Or the night. Or the week. Or whatever the hell time it was.

 

He had no idea how long he’d been in the company of these monsters for, no idea how much time had passed since they’d snatched from off the range when he was out of an early morning run; he’d always known exercise was bad for the health. Every moment since then, he had been expecting Hannibal to come for him though, to smash down the door with Murdock and BA right behind him and get him the hell out of this hole. But Hannibal had never come, his team had never come. He realised that meant they just didn’t know where he’d got to. Either that or they were dead. He felt selfish that both possibilities were equally repugnant to him.

 

This current situation, however, was living torture – literally. They weren’t asking him anything, they didn’t want anything from him, they weren’t punishing him for anything, they were just testing him. They’d told him that, that he’d been selected for his high fitness levels, his stamina, and now they just wanted to see what the human body was capable of, how far they could push him before he died. It wasn’t anything personal, it was a simple experiment on behalf of the US Army, his US Army. He should be grateful he’d been selected.

 

At first, his inherent stubbornness saw him spitting a, “Fuck you,” their way, but now, so many agonising sessions later, he was cursing his stamina and just wishing that he would curl up and die.

 

They’d started with the sensory stuff, sounds, lights, temperature fluctuations and so on, and it had been relentless, so much so that he’d felt he’d been losing his mind. After that had come starving and forced feeding, vomiting and induced diarrhoea. They’d pumped water straight into his belly, kept it going until he was screaming in agony, fearing he would simply burst at any moment. And then they’d moved onto electrocution, shocking him over and over and over again, making him empty his bladder and his bowels, leaving him helplessly convulsing on the filthy floor whilst they watched and made notes. And he knew that it was never going to stop, each day more horrific than the last, the ‘invisible’ tortures inevitably making way for the beatings and maiming, a blank-faced doctor attending to him after every session, signing away his fitness to continue. It was never going to stop until he died. 

 

He’d vomited this time, he hadn’t even been aware of that as the electricity had ripped through him, but now he could smell it, feel its slimy substance under his cheek but didn’t have the strength to lift his head. He wondered if he could actually turn into it, move his mouth and nose until they were full of the stuff, suffocate on the contents of his own stomach – it was appallingly appealing.

 

Before he could persuade his mis-firing neurons to marshal his muscles into movement, however, the door to his torture chamber opened and he could have cried at the missed opportunity. Boots headed his way and hands grabbed at him. He tensed, waited for them to drag him into whatever humiliating position they’d planned for him this time, but the pain never came, instead, gentle hands turned him over, a wet cloth wiped the slime from his face, and a voice, a voice he’d dreamed of so many times these last few weeks, whispered to him, “It’s okay, baby, I’m here now, and we’re leaving. You hear me? We’re leaving.”

 

He was lifted then, strong arms holding him close, stopping the helpless twitching of his muscles, and carried towards Hell’s gates, where two very familiar gun-toting sentries waited for them and the four of them together left, a gentle kiss pressed into his hair as his saviour stepped over the bodies of his torturers and off into freedom.    


	3. �Version C - The Other Idea I Had

**Version C - The Other Idea I Had**

 

** Chapter 1 **

 

Hannibal Smith just stared, his expression blank, incomprehension leaking from his every pore.

 

Wilson, meanwhile, waited, allowed that moment for his words to sink in a little and then braced himself for the inevitable explosion.

 

It was a long time coming, and when it arrived, far more measured than he’d expected. He saw it arriving though, the way that Hannibal drew himself up a little, those unsettlingly blue eyes pinning him in his seat, his huge hands moving to rest in his lap – closer grabbing distance perhaps? He learned in a little and his voice was low, controlled.

“Are you sure you have the right man?”

 

It was far less than Wilson had expected, far tamer, and he allowed himself a simple nod. “Of course. And I’m sorry, I appreciate how much of a shock this is for you.”

 

Smith drew back a little, his countenance as empty as before, “Explain it to me.”

 

For the briefest of moments, Wilson was silent. Explain it to him? The shock? No, no, of course not. The bombshell, that’s what he wanted explaining and of course, Wilson could do this, it was his job after all. He adjusted his suit jacket slightly, unconsciously tried to add a little height into his posture and started. “The ‘droid programme started in the early eighties-”

 

“1984,” Smith interjected, smoothly. “Project Nexus, a nod to Blade Runner. An inevitable foray into AI after learning that the Russians were amassing their own army of androids. I know all that. I want you to explain to me how _this_ happened.”

 

Wilson swallowed, tried to throw off the way that this man made him feel that he was back in Elementary, in the Principal’s office, and started again. “At first, Nexus was simply about studying what was out there already, but the decision came from the very highest level that we needed to fight fire with fire-”

 

“President Reagan did enjoy his science fiction.”

 

“He did, he did, that’s right,” Wilson stared at the man opposite him, was this evidence of a thaw? He couldn’t be at all sure. “So, we started our own research, involved the very best brains, started developing our own strain of ‘droid.”

 

“I know all of that, too. I’ve seen the Nexus 10s, served alongside many of them, but they were never like this, they were never… human.”

 

“No,” Wilson leaned in a little. “In a way, the 10s were cover for the real goal, the Silver Nexus,” he’d paused for affect but Smith remained inscrutable. His big reveal ruined slightly, he pushed on. “Silver Nexus were a whole other ball game, the next level up and a step away from what the Russians were doing. A new interface, new construction materials and techniques, huge leaps in AI, they were barely recognisable as related to the 10s.” Smith nodded, and pleased that he was, at last, being listened to, Wilson pushed on. “We produced twenty, all in all, decided to get them into the field in a blind test, see how long it was before anyone noticed what they actually were.” Was that a flicker of annoyance he saw in those steel-eyes? He needed to tread more carefully. “They were carefully inserted, highly competent leaders selected to work alongside them, monitored most judiciously over the years. If they started showing signs of fatigue or failure to cope, they were adjusted – or withdrawn.” He’d hoped that that might have been enough, that Smith might have decided to withdraw his questioning in the discovery of the monitoring, but no such embarrassment was evident. The Colonel simply stared at him, his expression still blank, his eyes appraising; Wilson pushed on.

 

“SN14, your model, was by far the most successful of the pilot scheme. It assimilated itself into the unit in the same way a human might. There were problems, of course, programming glitches in terms of behaviour choices, moderation was always a problem, the Silver Nexus with their superior AI were prone to extremes, taking an order and following it literally, almost past the point of reason, there were long-running difficulties with managing risk-taking behaviour, loyalty was a trait that had been designed with care, and was prized in those models which displayed it, but it was never supposed to over-ride the safety settings.”

 

Smith narrowed his eyes at this, ever so slightly.

 

“But there were also huge successes, especially with SN14, and we’ve always credited a huge part of that to your leadership, Colonel. Our Silver Nexus models were designed to learn, to adapt to meet the needs of their superiors. SN14 did this far better than any of the other models,” Wilson felt his heart beating anxiously against his ribs, “it worked out exactly what you wanted it to be – and it provided that… service.”

 

Smith’s expression remained granite and Wilson waited. Would there be refutes? Anger? Embarrassment? From what he knew about this man, he wasn’t easily ruffled but even so, it must be clear what Wilson was referring to, DADT hadn’t been repealed for that long, even the legendary Hannibal Smith must have his limits.

 

But not, apparently, here. The steady stare lasted a few minutes more and then a response, short and terse and not really what Wilson had been expecting. “You thought that was prudent then, did you? Placing an android in my team, with my men, and never even hinting that it was there?”

 

He blinked, wiped his damp palms on his suit trousers and tried to hold Smith’s eyes. From what he’d been told, there had been a real, emotional connection here, one that had needed severing most carefully, he hadn’t expected acceptance so quickly. He forced out a shrug which he hoped looked relaxed. “It was necessary. If you knew that it was a ‘droid, then you would have treated it differently. Thinking it was human, allowed us to test it more thoroughly.”

 

“And you invented that whole background for it?”

 

“Absolutely. We thought that the orphan story would be enough but as the experiment continued and your… _relationship_ with it deepened, we simply paid actors to play the parts of priests and nuns, classmates, anything that would facilitate the lie.”

 

“But you never felt that it was dangerous? That it would compromise my unit?”

 

“It was risk assessed. Think of your team as test pilots, running through some new kit.”

 

“Test pilots generally agree to what they have been asked to do, and they get danger money. We received no such common courtesy with this project, we were simply sent out there with a damn robot to cover us and expected to do our thing. What the hell were we supposed to do if the thing malfunctioned on us when we were out there?”

 

This, Wilson could handle, this he was trained for. “It was a different time, Colonel Smith, different standards and expectations. This is partly why the Nexus project has been pulled, and you will be contacted by one of our legal representatives within the week in order to discuss some recompense for your inconvenience.”

 

Smith nodded at that, seemingly satisfied, but then shook his head again as the anger finally began to surface. “Recompense is required, yes, but it will never put right what you and your team have done here. You have manipulated me for years, shoe-horned a changeling into my unit and my life, directed events and emotions, led me to _care_ for a man who simply didn’t exist, left the safety of my entire unit to a machine, stage-managed missions and outcomes, simply to test your tech; we knew that the Russians were doing this, how do you think it makes me feel that my own damn side were doing the same thing?”

 

“We had no choice,” Wilson kept his voice low, respectful, “It was because the Russians were doing it that we had to have our own programme.”

 

Smith stared at him, “But now?”

 

Wilson sat back in his seat, spread his arms wide in a gesture of defeat. “But now, the money simply isn’t there. Obama has different priorities, the threats we face are coming from the same people, and more, but in different directions. SN14 was the last operational unit and funding is gone. It simply wasn’t safe, or viable, to leave it out there.”

 

“It’s been decommissioned?”

 

“Yes. We thought it prudent to remove it from your unit with immediate effect. We can no longer guarantee its safe operation.”

 

Smith sat back a little at that, it seemed that maybe he wasn’t quite as immune to the emotional fall-out as he’d wanted to be. “What’s the confidential level on this?”

 

“Need to know, only.”

 

“And so, what do I tell my team?”

 

“Death, I suggest is the easiest one. We’ll provide a death certificate for you, a funeral, anything else you think might be useful in closing this down.”

 

“That’s a lot of money and expense you’re going to there.”

 

Wilson smiled, “We need this shutting down for good, we can’t afford to leave loose ends which could be picked at in the future.”

 

“And yet you told me?”

 

The smiled thinned a little, but Wilson persisted, “We know you, Colonel Smith. You wouldn’t have simply swallowed any old story that you were fed. In addition, you and SN14 had a… particular link. My predecessors should never have allowed that to develop in the way that it did, but since it was there, we felt that you deserved answers, some closure perhaps.”

 

“It’s the least I deserve,” Smith growled, “You ever been duped into fucking a damn _robot_?”

 

Wilson felt his cheeks flush, but he forced himself to hold Smith’s eyes. “No. And I’m sorry, I told you there will be recompense for this.”

 

Smith rose and snatched up his beret as he turned to leave, “You’re damn right there will be.”

 

Wilson watched him leave, watched the door shake in its frame with the force in which it was slammed and then let out a long breath of relief, wiping a hand over his clammy face as he did so. Then, as Smith’s car roared out of the lot below him, he picked up his phone and pressed a pre-programmed number. “Yeah, he’s just left now. Gone to lick his wounds and nurse his pride I reckon.” He nodded again and smiled, “Maybe a few thou might ease the sting, but yeah, I don’t reckon he’ll be any bother to us now.”

****

 

** Chapter 2c **

 

Jarvis and Zane sat back in their chairs, eyes on the stark, white room on the other side of their viewing pane, and the still figure strapped to the table in the centre. For long moments, they didn’t move, hardly dared breathe until Zane let out a long careful breath as his eyes cautiously slid his colleague’s way. “Is that it now, is that all we do? Or do we have to sit here and wait for it to die?” he glanced at the clock on the wall. “I need to get on, I’m taking Clara out for dinner tonight.”

 

It was Jarvis’ turn to blow out a breath, but his was scornful as he flashed a cold stare at his partner. “Die? How can it die, you imbecile, it was never alive in the first place.”

 

“You know what I mean, do we have to sit here until all the circuits are dead, or can we just leave it now?”

 

Jarvis shook his head. “We have to wait until we’re certain it’s not going to get up off that bench and rip all our heads off. We’re scientists, remember, we need to do this properly. “

 

Zane’s shoulders shook in mirthless laughter as long fingers brushed through a neatly clipped beard. “Scientists… You think we’re up for a Nobel prize after this? Let me tell you, we’re _not_ getting a Nobel prize for this.”

 

Resigned to waiting, the two men slid into silence as they watched their motionless subject, Zane tapping his pen on his clipboard as he kept one eye on the clock.

 

“How long has it been now?” his voice eventually broke the silence.

 

“Thirteen minutes. Residual power should be depleted pretty soon.”

 

“I’m surprised it was so easy.”

 

“Hmmm,” Jarvis leaned in to look at the dials on his control bank. “These units were supposed to preserve their power sources at all costs. I was surprised too. But it’s old now – part of the reason it needs decommissioning.”

 

“Did you hear how Smith took the news, then?” Zane was noting down readings on his clipboard, eyes constantly flicking to the still figure on the table through the glass.

 

“How do you think? Facts are facts, you can’t deny the truth when it’s laid out in front of you like that.”

 

“Yeah, but…” both men stopped as the figure in front of them twitched slightly, but the monitors stayed steady. “From what we’d observed, Smith never even suspected he had a ‘droid in his unit – in his bed – I’d figured he’d be more dogged than that, want to see something for himself, some proof, you know?”

 

“I guess so,” Jarvis was flicking switches as they started to blink at him, “Wilson said it was his ego in the end. Couldn’t stand the thought that he’d been fucking an android…”

 

Zane shivered, “How could he have never noticed that?”

 

Further speculation was halted by a big red light on the centre of their console starting to blink, intermittently, at them and both men swung into action. “That’s the final power unit starting to fail, that’s the one that will shut it down for good. “

 

Nodding, Zane started pressing buttons, darkening the bank of dials as, one by one, they flickered off. “So that’s us done then? We can leave it now, right? It’s not getting up again.”

 

“Okay,” in the white room beyond the glass, the lone figure hadn’t moved, not a single twitch. “Is the lab door double locked?” a single nod answered his question, “Let’s get going then.”

 

Together, they rose to their feet, flicking a switch and plunging the white room into darkness.

 

** Chapter 3c **

****

SN14 lay still on the table as the two operatives who’d been assigned to shut him down retreated from the room and locked him in. He hadn’t questioned his orders when they’d told him to get up onto the table, hadn’t objected when the titanium cuffs had snapped around his wrists and ankles, hadn’t even protested when they’d opened his chest cavity and removed his core generator.

 

When he’d been snatched from his early morning run at the range, he’d been worried at first, concerned that his unit was under attack. Crazy thing was that he hadn’t even needed to be there, hadn’t needed the exercise, but had grown into _liking_ it, which was one of the many, many things that had never made sense to him. But then he realised that it hadn’t been his unit they’d been after, it had just been _him_ and, at first, he had been expecting Hannibal to come for him, to smash down the door with Murdock and BA right behind him and get him the hell out of this hole. But Hannibal had never come, his team had never come, and then that snake, Wilson, had come to him and explained it all.

 

Did he blame Hannibal for the repulsion he felt at learning the truth about his XO? Hell, no, of course he didn’t. SN14 knew the Colonel well, had served at his side for twenty years, had enjoyed something more with him for ten, he’d seen him interacting with the basic Nexus models, had seen him being fair and even handed – he was no bigot – but still, their relationship had been so much more, how could he not be appalled at the duplicity he’d been forced into?

 

SN14 was no fool. The stories from a nervous-looking Jarvis that they were going to run some diagnostics on him before he was reassigned were nothing but bull-shit; he’d known he was facing decommissioning, and really, what did he care about that? He took it meekly, with the lack of emotion which was expected from him, what was the point of continuing to function in the face of Hannibal’s disgust? The team’s anger? He just had to make sure that no one here suspected that, by telling Hannibal the truth about him, that they’d broken a heart he didn’t even possess.

 

These scientists who had assembled him, monitored him, held power of life or death over him, they were fools; they simply had no idea what it was that they’d created. He knew that he’d been top of the range AI, knew that he was built to learn and adapt and morph as the situation required. The scientists had watched all that, seen him do all of that and patted themselves on the back at how well he’d learnt to parachute, ride a bike, shoot a rifle, fight in hand to hand, crack a joke, cheek a superior. But then they’d stopped looking. They hadn’t seen how he’d taught himself to _feel_ emotions, not just imitate them, actually experience the humour in a joke, the fear in an op, the grief at losing a comrade, the joy of being alive and with friends – the love he’d found with Hannibal Smith. They hadn’t noticed any of that and SN14 had been pleased, had taken steps of his own to keep it all hidden – he knew enough about the people who’d created him to fear what they might do if they knew exactly how successful their experiment had become.

 

But now – they were going to kill him, kill their own success. He’d heard them talking on the other side of the glass, forgetting, or not caring, how good his hearing was. The comments about him, about Hannibal, had cut him deeply, but the comments about winning a Nobel prize? They had absolutely no idea how attainable that was.

 

He hadn’t said anything though, still hadn’t tipped them off because what was the point? Did he want to break out of here and face the boss and see that disgust for himself? See it written across the man he loved so much? No. Did he want to have to duck BA’s fist, ignore Murdock’s tears when they discovered how he’d lied to them? Burrowed his way into their team with his deceit and his dishonesty? God, no. They too would never believe him capable of such emotions, would never appreciate his evolution, would never see just how far his adaptive learning had taken him. He was the first ever android capable of feeling human emotions – and without his team around him, his love by his side, that was simply a pain he couldn’t stand to live with.

 

So, they’d brought him here to decommission, to kill, to switch off, whatever way you wanted to look at it and he didn’t care, he simply didn’t have the will to fight them over it all.

 

He could feel it now, the power leaving his limbs, he doubted he could get up now even if the will were there. He wondered how much longer it would be, and what they would do with his body – his casing – once they were done. An incinerator maybe, that would get rid of his fleshy parts, his circuitry, but maybe not the metal skeleton that held him up, that would need far greater temperatures to melt it down and make him disappear for good.

 

He closed his eyes as tears started to leak from the corners, terrified that Jarvis and Zane might see and start to wonder about him. This was another thing he shouldn’t do. Yes, he had the capability to cry, to eat and drink and pee and defecate, to get an erection and even to ejaculate, but all those features should have been consciously controlled, he should have had to order the tears instead of them coming whenever he was scared or sad – or incredibly happy. He should have had to request the erection, rather than feeling it coming on, all by itself, when Hannibal kissed him, when Hannibal touched him. And should he have ever felt such incredible pleasure when he ejaculated? He doubted so, but he absolutely did.

 

He was a one of a kind, a robot who felt, and it was literally going to be the death of him.

 

With a soft _whump_ , the lights around him shut off and he was left in the dark. If he’d opened his eyes again then his night vision would have kicked in, but he didn’t, he was done now, the end was fast approaching, and he just waited for it, let it come. He could hear Jarvis and Zane getting ready to leave, hear their banal conversations and then even that just stopped – he wondered if his hearing was fading as his power died. He felt like he was floating, like his consciousness was simply evaporating into nothing and waited, willing the blessed relief of oblivion to claim him.

 

He drifted onwards, conjuring an image of Hannibal Smith to hold onto as he went. A smiling Hannibal Smith, one who loved him, wanted him. He held onto that face, held onto the love he’d once felt and just allowed everything else to leave, until, one by one, every light in the empty control room blinked out and SN14 simply ceased to be.


	4. Version D - The End That Version C Deserved

**Version D - The End That Version C Deserved**

 

** Chapter 1 **

 

Hannibal Smith just stared, his expression blank, incomprehension leaking from his every pore.

 

Wilson, meanwhile, waited, allowed that moment for his words to sink in a little and then braced himself for the inevitable explosion.

 

It was a long time coming, and when it arrived, far more measured than he’d expected. He saw it arriving though, the way that Hannibal drew himself up a little, those unsettlingly blue eyes pinning him in his seat, his huge hands moving to rest in his lap – closer grabbing distance perhaps? He learned in a little and his voice was low, controlled.

“Are you sure you have the right man?”

 

It was far less than Wilson had expected, far tamer, and he allowed himself a simple nod. “Of course. And I’m sorry, I appreciate how much of a shock this is for you.”

 

Smith drew back a little, his countenance as empty as before, “Explain it to me.”

 

For the briefest of moments, Wilson was silent. Explain it to him? The shock? No, no, of course not. The bombshell, that’s what he wanted explaining and of course, Wilson could do this, it was his job after all. He adjusted his suit jacket slightly, unconsciously tried to add a little height into his posture and started. “The ‘droid programme started in the early eighties-”

 

“1984,” Smith interjected, smoothly. “Project Nexus, a nod to Blade Runner. An inevitable foray into AI after learning that the Russians were amassing their own army of androids. I know all that. I want you to explain to me how _this_ happened.”

 

Wilson swallowed, tried to throw off the way that this man made him feel that he was back in Elementary, in the Principal’s office, and started again. “At first, Nexus was simply about studying what was out there already, but the decision came from the very highest level that we needed to fight fire with fire-”

 

“President Reagan did enjoy his science fiction.”

 

“He did, he did, that’s right,” Wilson stared at the man opposite him, was this evidence of a thaw? He couldn’t be at all sure. “So, we started our own research, involved the very best brains, started developing our own strain of ‘droid.”

 

“I know all of that, too. I’ve seen the Nexus 10s, served alongside many of them, but they were never like this, they were never… human.”

 

“No,” Wilson leaned in a little. “In a way, the 10s were cover for the real goal, the Silver Nexus,” he’d paused for affect but Smith remained inscrutable. His big reveal ruined slightly, he pushed on. “Silver Nexus were a whole other ball game, the next level up and a step away from what the Russians were doing. A new interface, new construction materials and techniques, huge leaps in AI, they were barely recognisable as related to the 10s.” Smith nodded, and pleased that he was, at last, being listened to, Wilson pushed on. “We produced twenty, all in all, decided to get them into the field in a blind test, see how long it was before anyone noticed what they actually were.” Was that a flicker of annoyance he saw in those steel-eyes? He needed to tread more carefully. “They were carefully inserted, highly competent leaders selected to work alongside them, monitored most judiciously over the years. If they started showing signs of fatigue or failure to cope, they were adjusted – or withdrawn.” He’d hoped that that might have been enough, that Smith might have decided to withdraw his questioning in the discovery of the monitoring, but no such embarrassment was evident. The Colonel simply stared at him, his expression still blank, his eyes appraising; Wilson pushed on.

 

“SN14, your model, was by far the most successful of the pilot scheme. It assimilated itself into the unit in the same way a human might. There were problems, of course, programming glitches in terms of behaviour choices, moderation was always a problem, the Silver Nexus with their superior AI were prone to extremes, taking an order and following it literally, almost past the point of reason, there were long-running difficulties with managing risk-taking behaviour, loyalty was a trait that had been designed with care, and was prized in those models which displayed it, but it was never supposed to over-ride the safety settings.”

 

Smith narrowed his eyes at this, ever so slightly.

 

“But there were also huge successes, especially with SN14, and we’ve always credited a huge part of that to your leadership, Colonel. Our Silver Nexus models were designed to learn, to adapt to meet the needs of their superiors. SN14 did this far better than any of the other models,” Wilson felt his heart beating anxiously against his ribs, “it worked out exactly what you wanted it to be – and it provided that… service.”

 

Smith’s expression remained granite and Wilson waited. Would there be refutes? Anger? Embarrassment? From what he knew about this man, he wasn’t easily ruffled but even so, it must be clear what Wilson was referring to, DADT hadn’t been repealed for that long, even the legendary Hannibal Smith must have his limits.

 

But not, apparently, here. The steady stare lasted a few minutes more and then a response, short and terse and not really what Wilson had been expecting. “You thought that was prudent then, did you? Placing an android in my team, with my men, and never even hinting that it was there?”

 

He blinked, wiped his damp palms on his suit trousers and tried to hold Smith’s eyes. From what he’d been told, there had been a real, emotional connection here, one that had needed severing most carefully, he hadn’t expected acceptance so quickly. He forced out a shrug which he hoped looked relaxed. “It was necessary. If you knew that it was a ‘droid, then you would have treated it differently. Thinking it was human, allowed us to test it more thoroughly.”

 

“And you invented that whole background for it?”

 

“Absolutely. We thought that the orphan story would be enough but as the experiment continued and your… _relationship_ with it deepened, we simply paid actors to play the parts of priests and nuns, classmates, anything that would facilitate the lie.”

 

“But you never felt that it was dangerous? That it would compromise my unit?”

 

“It was risk assessed. Think of your team as test pilots, running through some new kit.”

 

“Test pilots generally agree to what they have been asked to do, and they get danger money. We received no such common courtesy with this project, we were simply sent out there with a damn robot to cover us and expected to do our thing. What the hell were we supposed to do if the thing malfunctioned on us when we were out there?”

 

This, Wilson could handle, this he was trained for. “It was a different time, Colonel Smith, different standards and expectations. This is partly why the Nexus project has been pulled, and you will be contacted by one of our legal representatives within the week in order to discuss some recompense for your inconvenience.”

 

Smith nodded at that, seemingly satisfied, but then shook his head again as the anger finally began to surface. “Recompense is required, yes, but it will never put right what you and your team have done here. You have manipulated me for years, shoe-horned a changeling into my unit and my life, directed events and emotions, led me to _care_ for a man who simply didn’t exist, left the safety of my entire unit to a machine, stage-managed missions and outcomes, simply to test your tech; we knew that the Russians were doing this, how do you think it makes me feel that my own damn side were doing the same thing?”

 

“We had no choice,” Wilson kept his voice low, respectful, “It was because the Russians were doing it that we had to have our own programme.”

 

Smith stared at him, “But now?”

 

Wilson sat back in his seat, spread his arms wide in a gesture of defeat. “But now, the money simply isn’t there. Obama has different priorities, the threats we face are coming from the same people, and more, but in different directions. SN14 was the last operational unit and funding is gone. It simply wasn’t safe, or viable, to leave it out there.”

 

“It’s been decommissioned?”

 

“Yes. We thought it prudent to remove it from your unit with immediate effect. We can no longer guarantee its safe operation.”

 

Smith sat back a little at that, it seemed that maybe he wasn’t quite as immune to the emotional fall-out as he’d wanted to be. “What’s the confidential level on this?”

 

“Need to know, only.”

 

“And so, what do I tell my team?”

 

“Death, I suggest is the easiest one. We’ll provide a death certificate for you, a funeral, anything else you think might be useful in closing this down.”

 

“That’s a lot of money and expense you’re going to there.”

 

Wilson smiled, “We need this shutting down for good, we can’t afford to leave loose ends which could be picked at in the future.”

 

“And yet you told me?”

 

The smiled thinned a little, but Wilson persisted, “We know you, Colonel Smith. You wouldn’t have simply swallowed any old story that you were fed. In addition, you and SN14 had a… particular link. My predecessors should never have allowed that to develop in the way that it did, but since it was there, we felt that you deserved answers, some closure perhaps.”

 

“It’s the least I deserve,” Smith growled, “You ever been duped into fucking a damn _robot_?”

 

Wilson felt his cheeks flush, but he forced himself to hold Smith’s eyes. “No. And I’m sorry, I told you there will be recompense for this.”

 

Smith rose and snatched up his beret as he turned to leave, “You’re damn right there will be.”

 

Wilson watched him leave, watched the door shake in its frame with the force in which it was slammed and then let out a long breath of relief, wiping a hand over his clammy face as he did so. Then, as Smith’s car roared out of the lot below him, he picked up his phone and pressed a pre-programmed number. “Yeah, he’s just left now. Gone to lick his wounds and nurse his pride I reckon.” He nodded again and smiled, “Maybe a few thou might ease the sting, but yeah, I don’t reckon he’ll be any bother to us now.”

 

** Chapter 2d **

 

Jarvis and Zane sat back in their chairs, eyes on the stark, white room on the other side of their viewing pane, and the still figure strapped to the table in the centre. For long moments, they didn’t move, hardly dared breathe until Zane let out a long careful breath as his eyes cautiously slid his colleague’s way. “Is that it now, is that all we do? Or do we have to sit here and wait for it to die?” he glanced at the clock on the wall. “I need to get on, I’m taking Clara out for dinner tonight.”

 

It was Jarvis’ turn to blow out a breath, but his was scornful as he flashed a cold stare at his partner. “Die? How can it die, you imbecile, it was never alive in the first place.”

 

“You know what I mean, do we have to sit here until all the circuits are dead, or can we just leave it now?”

 

Jarvis shook his head. “We have to wait until we’re certain it’s not going to get up off that bench and rip all our heads off. We’re scientists, remember, we need to do this properly. “

 

Zane’s shoulders shook in mirthless laughter as long fingers brushed through a neatly clipped beard. “Scientists… You think we’re up for a Nobel prize after this? Let me tell you, we’re _not_ getting a Nobel prize for this.”

 

Resigned to waiting, the two men slid into silence as they watched their motionless subject, Zane tapping his pen on his clipboard as he kept one eye on the clock.

 

“How long has it been now?” his voice eventually broke the silence.

 

“Thirteen minutes. Residual power should be depleted pretty soon.”

 

“I’m surprised it was so easy.”

 

“Hmmm,” Jarvis leaned in to look at the dials on his control bank. “These units were supposed to preserve their power sources at all costs. I was surprised too. But it’s old now – part of the reason it needs decommissioning.”

 

“Did you hear how Smith took the news, then?” Zane was noting down readings on his clipboard, eyes constantly flicking to the still figure on the table through the glass.

 

“How do you think? Facts are facts, you can’t deny the truth when it’s laid out in front of you like that.”

 

“Yeah, but…” both men stopped as the figure in front of them twitched slightly, but the monitors stayed steady. “From what we’d observed, Smith never even suspected he had a ‘droid in his unit – in his bed – I’d figured he’d be more dogged than that, want to see something for himself, some proof, you know?”

 

“I guess so,” Jarvis was flicking switches as they started to blink at him, “Wilson said it was his ego in the end. Couldn’t stand the thought that he’d been fucking an android…”

 

Zane shivered, “How could he have never noticed that?”

 

Further speculation was halted by a big red light on the centre of their console starting to blink, intermittently, at them and both men swung into action. “That’s the final power unit starting to fail, that’s the one that will shut it down for good. “

 

Nodding, Zane started pressing buttons, darkening the bank of dials as, one by one, they flickered off. “So that’s us done then? We can leave it now, right? It’s not getting up again.”

 

“Okay,” in the white room beyond the glass, the lone figure hadn’t moved, not a single twitch. “Is the lab door double locked?” a single nod answered his question, “Let’s get going then.”

 

Together, they rose to their feet, flicking a switch and plunging the white room into darkness.

 

** Chapter 3d **

 

SN14 lay still on the table as the two operatives who’d been assigned to shut him down retreated from the room and locked him in. He hadn’t questioned his orders when they’d told him to get up onto the table, hadn’t objected when the titanium cuffs had snapped around his wrists and ankles, hadn’t even protested when they’d opened his chest cavity and removed his core generator.

 

When he’d been snatched from his early morning run at the range he’d been worried at first, concerned that his unit was under attack. Crazy thing was that he hadn’t even needed to be there, hadn’t needed the exercise, but had grown into _liking_ it, which was one of the many, many things that had never made sense to him. But then he realised that it hadn’t been his unit they’d been after, it had just been _him_ and then he had been expecting Hannibal to come for him, to smash down the door with Murdock and BA right behind him and get him the hell out of this hole. But Hannibal had never come, his team had never come, and then that snake, Wilson, had come to him and explained it all.

 

Did he blame Hannibal for the repulsion he felt at learning the truth about his XO? Hell, no, of course he didn’t. SN14 knew the Colonel well, had served at his side for twenty years, had enjoyed something more with him for ten, he’d seen him interacting with the basic Nexus models, had seen him being fair and even handed – he was no bigot – but still, their relationship had been so much more, how could he not be appalled at the duplicity he’d been forced into?

 

SN14 was no fool. The stories from a nervous-looking Jarvis that they were going to run some diagnostics on him before he was reassigned were nothing but bull-shit; he’d known he was facing decommissioning, and really, what did he care about that? He took it meekly, with the lack of emotion which was expected from him, what was the point of continuing to function in the face of Hannibal’s disgust? The team’s anger? He just had to make sure that no one here suspected, by telling Hannibal the truth about him, they’d broken a heart he didn’t even possess.

 

These scientists who had assembled him, monitored him, held power of life or death over him, they were fools; they simply had no idea what it was that they’d created. He knew that he’d been top of the range AI, knew that he was built to learn and adapt and morph as the situation required. The scientists had watched all that, seen him do all of that and patted themselves on the back at how well he’d learnt to parachute, ride a bike, shoot a rifle, fight in hand to hand, crack a joke, cheek a superior. But then they’d stopped looking. They hadn’t seen how he’d taught himself to _feel_ emotions, not just imitate them, actually experience the humour in a joke, the fear in an op, the grief at losing a comrade, the joy of being alive and with friends – the love he’d found with Hannibal Smith. They hadn’t noticed any of that and SN14 had been pleased, had taken steps of his own to keep it all hidden – he knew enough about the people who’d created him to fear what they might do if they knew exactly how successful their experiment had become.

 

But now – they were going to kill him, kill their own success. He’d heard them talking on the other side of the glass, forgetting, or not caring, how good his hearing was. The comments about him, about Hannibal, had cut him deeply, but the comments about winning a Nobel prize? They had absolutely no idea how attainable that was.

 

He hadn’t said anything though, still hadn’t tipped them off because what was the point? Did he want to break out of here and face the boss and see that disgust for himself? See it written across the man he loved so much? No. Did he want to have to duck BA’s fist, ignore Murdock’s tears when they discovered how he’d lied to them? Burrowed his way into their team with his deceit and his dishonesty? God, no. They too would never believe him capable of such emotions, would never appreciate his evolution, would never see just how far his adaptive learning had taken him. He was the first ever android capable of feeling human emotions – and without his team around him, his love by his side, that was simply a pain he couldn’t stand to live with.

 

So, they’d brought him here to decommission, to kill, to switch off, whatever way you wanted to look at it and he didn’t care, he simply didn’t have the will to fight them over it all.

 

He could feel it now, the power leaving his limbs, he doubted he could get up now even if he’d wanted to. He wondered how much longer it would be, and what they would do with his body – his casing – once they were done. An incinerator maybe, that would get rid of his fleshy parts, his circuitry, but maybe not the metal skeleton that held him up, that would need far greater temperatures to melt it down and make him disappear for good.

 

He closed his eyes as tears started to leak from the corners, terrified that Jarvis and Zane might see and start to wonder about him. This was another thing he shouldn’t do. Yes, he had the capability to cry, to eat and drink and pee and defecate, to get an erection and even to ejaculate, but all those features should have been consciously controlled, he should have had to order the tears instead of them coming whenever he was scared or sad – or incredibly happy. He should have had to request the erection, rather than feeling it coming on, all by itself, when Hannibal kissed him, when Hannibal touched him. And should he have ever felt such incredible pleasure when he ejaculated? He doubted so, but he absolutely did.

 

He was a one of a kind, a robot who felt, and it was literally going to be the death of him.

 

With a soft _whump_ , the lights around him shut off and he was left in the dark. If he’d opened his eyes again then his night vision would have kicked in, but he didn’t, he was done now, the end was fast approaching and he just waited for it, let it come. He could hear Jarvis and Zane getting ready to leave, hear their banal conversations and then even that just stopped – he wondered if his hearing was fading as his power died. He felt like he was floating, like his consciousness was simply evaporating into nothing and waited, willing the blessed relief of oblivion to claim him.

 

But then he jumped, his entire body convulsing in shock as pure energy seared through it. It hurt, his eyes flew open all on their own, staring in horror at the white ceiling as he felt his generator click back into place in his chest. “No!” the word was ripped from him, his oblivion ripped from him, and despair threatened to swallow him whole. “Leave me,” he pleaded to the ceiling, “leave me die. I can’t do this without them.” And what the fuck was that? What was he gifting these people? Would they keep him here for ever more now? Prodding and poking at him as they tested these emotions he’d created for himself?

 

“Face!”

 

But that voice… he hadn’t expected that voice and his eyes jumped down his body, met with Hannibal’s and saw the fear, the desperation there and wondered what this was.

 

“Oh my God, I’d thought I was too late, I’d thought you’d gone…” there was a hand on his cheek then, trembling slightly as it wiped through his tears. “I couldn’t stand losing you, couldn’t stand the thought that you’d think I didn’t love you still, that I didn’t _know_.” He smiled then, sad and tragic but with so much love that SN14 could feel the beating of his imitation heart in his chest. “Of course I knew, I’ve known for almost the whole time you were with us. How could I _not_ know? Given all that we’ve done, all that you are to me.”

 

SN14 just stared at him, his circuitry struggling to work through those words as everything rebooted inside him. “You knew?” he whispered, and why didn’t that make sense to him? “You knew but you still…”

 

“Loved you? _Love_ you?” the smile widened. “Yes, Face, yes, I do. Just like you love me, even though you’re not supposed to be able to do that, right?”

 

Blinking through the stubborn tears, SN14 nodded, finding his voice to whisper a very real, “Yes.”

 

He tried to move at that, tried to break the bonds that held him fast, but he was still too weak, the power surge hadn’t made it through all his circuits yet. Instead, he lay, helpless, as gentle hands opened the metal cuffs, a cigar-scented glove wiped the last few tears from his cheeks, and that voice, that voice he always dreamed about whenever he was alone, whispered to him, “It’s okay, baby, I’m here now, and we’re leaving. You hear me? We’re leaving.”

 

He was lifted then, strong arms holding him close as the power slowly worked its way into his helpless limbs, and carried towards the corridor beyond, where two, very familiar, gun-toting sentries waited for them and together, the four of them left, a gentle kiss pressed into his hair as his saviour stepped over the bodies of his tormentors and carried SN14, carried _Face_ , off into freedom.    

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2018 Halloween Challenge on the Yahoo HF group :)


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